


I’d Pay Any Price

by morganoconner



Category: Inception, Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-19
Updated: 2010-08-19
Packaged: 2017-10-18 08:32:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/186959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morganoconner/pseuds/morganoconner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eames is out of other options.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I’d Pay Any Price

Arthur’s in Limbo.

Arthur’s in Limbo, so deep that nothing short of a bullet to the head in the real world is going to drag him out, for all the good _that_ would do, and Eames has tried everything, _everything_ , and there’s nothing left but this. Nothing left but a fragmented memory of an old legend, more an old wive’s tale than anything, but he’s desperate. Desperate, and broken, and it’s _Arthur_ …it’s Arthur, and Eames would do anything, _suffer_ anything, if it meant that Arthur could be safe.

So he goes to the first crossroads he can find, digs the little box he’d put together from his pocket. Very carefully _doesn’t_ open it as he digs, because God knows he doesn’t ever want to look at what it is he’s burying again if he can help it. He does hold it for a moment, eyes closed, thinking of Arthur for a long time before he gives a decisive nod. Before he buries it.

Before he waits.

“Mr. Eames, I presume.”

Eames spins, his heart suddenly racing because he hadn’t really thought…hadn’t _believed_ …

“Come now, you must have had _some_ idea.” The…person? Thing? _Demon_ , his mind supplies helpfully. The _demon_ , then, clasps his hands together behind his back and smirks at Eames, his head tilted just slightly. “Otherwise, why would you have bothered?”

Eames releases a breath, gathering his bearings. He’s never before had trouble letting things roll off of him, why should he start now, with something as important as this? “If you know my name, then you must know what I want.”

“Straight to business, then. I approve.” Another slow curve of the lips, a gleam in those dark eyes. “My name is Crowley, by the way. _Demon_ sounds so…dishonorable. Downright seedy, really.”

Eames doesn’t care about the thing’s name, he really doesn’t. “Can you help me or not?” he grits out, his voice so uncharacteristically gravelly that it almost makes him wince.

“Of course I can,” it – _Crowley_ – says with a careless shrug. “However, nothing in life is free, darling. You must be willing to pay the price.”

“And what, pray tell, is the going rate for something of this nature these days?” Eames is tired. He’s tired of bantering, tired of this game. He wants Arthur back, it’s been too long already, and what if he’s…

He won’t think it. Arthur will come back, and his mind will be as sharp and perfect as it’s always been. It has to be.

Crowley rubs his chin thoughtfully, eyes raking over Eames. “I’ll tell you what. I can be as gracious as the next businessman, and I think I like you. Must be something about the accent.” His grin is downright predatory now, but when Eames blinks, the look has changed, and Crowley suddenly looks as innocent as a kitten. “I’ll bring your boy back, free of charge…for now. We’ll call it an…I.O.U.”

Eames’ eyebrow slides up. “Why on earth would you ever do that?” _And what will you expect **later** , God help me?_

“Oh, God’s got very little to do with this, I assure you. And…I have my reasons. We demons, we’re not all bad people, you know.”

“I’m sure,” Eames murmurs, but really, what does it matter? He’d come here willing to give anything to have Arthur safe, and that still stands. If he gets a few days reprieve before that cost comes due, who is he to complain?

“Ah, and there it is,” Crowley said, sounding far too satisfied. Far too much like the cat to Eames’ canary. “The final break, the inevitable push. When ‘will he or won’t he’ becomes ‘ _please_ ’. I should make you beg for it, Mr. Eames, but as I’ve already said, I’m a generous soul.”

Eames gives an undignified snort. “Then we’ve got a deal?”

Crowley only smiles. “We’ve a promise for you to complete the transaction at a later time. For now, all I have need of is the kick to get the magic going.” He takes a single step forward, waits patiently.

Eames wastes no more time. He closes the distance between them swiftly, bends and claims Crowley’s mouth with a vicious sort of desperation, all teeth and tongues and heat and violence.

The world goes dark for an indeterminate amount of time, and when he finally wakes again and opens his eyes, Arthur is stirring awake beside him on the bed.


End file.
